Wishing on Willows: A Novel (41 page)

This couldn’t be … She touched the tarp with trembling fingers.

“You okay, ma’am?”

Robin bit her lip, unsure.

“Mind if we get it inside? It’s getting pretty late.”

She dug her keys from her purse, unlocked the doors, flipped on the lights, and blinked against the flood of brightness. The damage had been gutted. All that remained were charred walls and her catastrophic kitchen.

The tarp rustled and fell to the floor. A slow gasp tumbled from Robin’s lips. She stood, transfixed, taking in the shape, the color, the familiar perfection
of the keys. It was Mom’s piano, as good as new. She laid her cheek against the smooth finish, inhaling the scent of pine and lemon.

How could this be? When had he done it?

She sat at the bench and brought her hands over the keys. She played several scales. Mom used to call them finger stretches. Musical training. A practice in discipline, only it never felt like discipline. Not with Mom’s vanilla plum lotion kissing the air and her hands dancing over the keys.

The scales turned to a song—a rich serenade flowing from her fingertips, swirling with the quiet, filling her body. Mom had always reminded her not to let her fingers get ahead of the music, but Robin never listened. She couldn’t then and she couldn’t now, especially when she hadn’t played for so long.

Her fingers raced ahead of conscious thought until all that existed was the music. It melted into her hands and carried her away. Song after song poured out, one after the other. Songs Mom had taught her, songs she played in church, songs she’d written while Caleb slept in his crib. She closed her eyes and surrendered to her hands.

Sadness and joy. Longing and fear. Desire and loyalty. All of it coalesced into a terrifying hope wrapped within a thousand what-ifs. All this time, she’d been living as if the days between Micah’s death and her own were nothing but a drawn-out interlude. But what if they weren’t? What if God wanted more for her life than filler music? Life with Caleb and the café
was
enough. But what if God, in all His generosity and love, wanted to give her more than enough? Perhaps giving her heart away didn’t have to be such a scary thing when He was holding it in His palm. Maybe it was time to turn away from this mountain of fear and her past and the man she once loved bigger than the moon so she could take whatever journey God had for her.

I’m done with the desert, Lord. I don’t want to die staring at the mountain
.

Something niggled between the crevices of her mind. Sharp and soft. Dark and light. Micah and Ian. Two men. One gone and one very much alive. Fear and hope went to war, as one by one, God removed the familiar tentacles that kept her rooted in place, afraid to step, until the desperate
cacophony of notes morphed into a joyous melody of new beginnings and fresh starts. A melody of healing and hope.

She didn’t stop when her finger throbbed. She didn’t stop when blackness crept into her windows. She played until a sharp tapping interrupted her personal concert. Her hands stopped and Robin turned. Mayor Ford had his face pressed against her window, knocking on the front doors. She looked at her watch, then went to the front and unlocked the dead bolt, inviting the night air across her empty café floor. Mayor Ford stepped inside, his face lined with wrinkles she’d never noticed before.

“I was driving past and saw your lights on.”

Her finger throbbed. She clasped it in front of her. Dr. Dotts would not be pleased.

Mayor Ford wrung his hands. “After the crowd cleared, the council members and I discussed our options.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry, Robin, but these condominiums are part of our development plan. We really do think they will be good for the town.”

She closed her eyes and waited for the pain, for the heated emotions of defeat to sweep her away. Only they didn’t come. Memories marched in their place. They reeled through her mind like scattered lyrics from a song. Ian’s smile. The confident way he navigated her kitchen. The depth in his eyes when he told her about his mother and the child he never knew. The gentleness of his hands when he held Caleb up to the nursery window. The faint scent of wintergreen pressed against his shirt as he held her in his arms. And her son. Getting back on the tractor. If he could do it, so could she.

“We’ve decided to move forward with condemnation.”

She opened her eyes. The walls that she and Bethany had built and painted. The walls that had brought her a sense of healing. They had served their purpose. But when it came right down to it, they were just walls. “That won’t be necessary.”

Mayor Ford furrowed his brow.

“I’d like to sell.”

“You would?” His tired face flickered with disbelief, then flooded with
pleasure. “That’s wonderful, Robin. I’ll start looking for a new developer first thing tomorrow morning.” His face split into that cherry-cheeked smile of his.

“There’s just one thing.”

His smile faltered.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d really like to sell to McKay Development and Construction.”

Robin raced through the gate leading to Bernie’s and knocked on the door. Was Ian still here? Had he driven back to Peoria? She paced on the step, waiting for somebody to answer.

The door swung open. Bernie stood before her, dressed in a terrycloth robe and slippers, the same black feline clutched in her arms—the broken-tailed she-cat named Bill. “Robin?”

“Is he still here?” She craned her neck to see past the woman blocking her view.

The cat squirmed. “Who?”

“Ian. Is he still here?”

“He left an hour ago.”

No.

Robin shook her head. She had to speak with him. She turned around and stepped off Bernie’s front stoop.

“What’s all this about?”

“Nothing, Bernie. Go back to sleep.” She pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed Ian’s phone number, but he didn’t answer. Each time she went straight to voice mail.

Her headlights sliced through the darkness as she drove down Main Street. Caleb slept in the back and Dad sat silently in the passenger seat. Weariness dragged at her eyelids, a hint of hopelessness too. She wanted to drive to Peoria, find Ian, and explain all that had happened. But he wouldn’t answer
his phone and she had no idea where he lived. She couldn’t just traipse off to Peoria when she had a little boy to think about.

Her stomach tightened. What if Ian never answered his phone? What if he never returned her phone calls? What if he decided she wasn’t worth the drama and they never saw each other again? The idea made her heart hurt. Robin pulled down her cul-de-sac and turned into her driveway. Her chest physically ached. A familiar feeling, only this time, it wasn’t Micah she longed for.

Dad patted her hand. “I’ll get Caleb.”

Robin unclasped her seat belt and coerced her body from the car. The sensor light flooded on and Robin stopped. A man sat on her front stoop.

Their eyes locked and held and the tapping in her pulse broke into a sprint. Ian’s hair was disheveled, his tie gone, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands clasped in front of his knees and his clothes … wet?

Robin tried to close her car door or pry her hand from the handle, but her body wouldn’t work properly. Her heart beat too fast. Her lungs worked too slow. Dad straightened from the car with her son and stopped, his eyes sparkling as he looked from Ian to Robin. “I’m going to go put this guy in bed.”

He kissed Robin’s forehead and headed toward the house. Robin followed, her muscles tight as she watched Dad pat Ian on the shoulder and disappear inside the front door with Caleb. Ian stood and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“You fixed my mother’s piano,” she said.

He nodded.

“Why?”

“I wanted to give you something.”

So he’d given her music, her mother, a lifetime of memories? “And tonight? The meeting? What was that about?”

He curled his hand around the back of his neck. Robin wanted to peel it away and trace her thumb over the defined line of his jaw. She wanted to erase the tension squeezing around his eyes. “I don’t want to take your café,” he said.

“No?”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I want anymore.”

She leaned forward, so close she could feel the heat from his body and smell … pond water. Questions jumbled in her mind—a thousand million questions. Like why did he quit his job? And what was he going to do now? But before she could get any of them out, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out something very familiar.

Her hand fluttered to her chest as she looked from the ring to Ian, the ring to Ian, the ring to Ian. “Is that …?”

“I thought you might want it back someday.”

Ian had found her ring. Her mother’s ring. Micah’s ring. He’d waded into the pond and he found her ring. She’d accepted the fact that it was lost. Finding it would be impossible. But somehow, Ian McKay did it.

“I didn’t know how else to show you.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“I don’t want to replace Micah, Robin. I know he’ll always be a part of your life.” He took her wrist. Set the ring in her palm. Curled her fingers around it and brought her fist to his chest. “I would never ask you or Caleb to forget him.”

Her heart thudded—a loud beat that pounded in her ears. He included Caleb. He couldn’t possibly know how much that meant to her that he included Caleb. “Mayor Ford came to see me.”

Regret rippled across his brow.

“The town is still going through with it. They’re going to condemn my property.”

He let go of her hand and ran his through his hair. “You can fight it. Mayor Ford doesn’t want to take you to court. He thinks the threat will be enough.”

“I told him I’d sell.”

His hand froze on top of his head.

She took his arm and threaded her fingers through his. Ian’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at their joined hands. They fit. Somehow. Someway. Robin didn’t think it was possible for her hand to fit with anybody
else’s but Micah’s. But she was wrong. “As long as I can sell to McKay Development and Construction.”

“I can’t let you give up your café.”

“I’d like to build a new one. First-floor condo space, remember? You said something about a built-in clientele.”

“Robin …”

“I’d like to build it with you.”

His eyes widened. “Me?”

“Rumor has it you’re unemployed. And I happen to know you’re handy in the kitchen.”

The doubt ebbed away, and he smiled that smile. The one that made his eyes crinkle and her knees go soft. “You like that idea?”

“I do.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand spanning the small of her back, and buried his face in her hair. “I love you, you know.”

She closed her eyes, imagining her feet treading into the water as God took her hand and led her across the Jordan. Toward a land filled with hope and second chances. A chance she never prayed for or even wished for. But God gave it to her anyway. She brought her lips to his ear. “You know what’s kind of convenient?”

“What?”

“I love you too.”

The whispered words came without fear or guilt or hesitation. They rang with honesty. She felt him smile against her cheek. And this time, he kissed her.